


To Love a God

by bamf_librarian (librawrian)



Category: Norse Religion & Lore, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, F/M, Gods, Human, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Romance, Worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 12:22:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15315423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/librawrian/pseuds/bamf_librarian
Summary: Sigyn is a mortal who feels a special connection with the God of mischief.  She offers up her prayers and Loki hears her.  He's captivated by her beauty and takes her as a lover, even knowing that the love of the Trickster God will inevitably bring her grief.





	To Love a God

The gods still walked among men from time to time. Their stories were still told in booming accolades and whispered warnings around the autumn bonfires and winter’s hearthside. Everyone knew of Thor’s great strength and bravery, of Odin’s wisdom, and of Loki’s trickery and deceit. 

 

Sigyn sat by the fire in her family’s humble cabin, surreptitiously fingering the small carved figurine hidden inside her apron pocket. Her brother-in-law and sister would have been enraged if they knew what she carried. They considered the god Loki to be unlucky and his name was not spoken inside their walls. 

 

She couldn’t explain why, when everyone else seemed content to vilify the Trickster, she was somehow drawn to him. Even as a small girl she always had a special connection to the god of mischief. She dearly loved to laugh and Loki’s tales caused her to fall down with laughter and happy tears in her eyes. As she grew into adolescence she was drawn to the god’s light-filled eyes, elfin smirk and raven black hair. He was different, at his core, from the rest of the gods. It was this difference that attracted her.

 

As a young woman she ached for Loki’s pain. She could never hear the tale of the dark elf sealing shut his beautiful lips, or the binding of his monstrous children, without shedding a tear. She felt compassion for the erstwhile outcast and, more importantly, reverence. Sigyn recognized the wisdom in offering worship to the god of change. He represented the chaos which could so easily upend mortal lives and she believed that her prayers to him would protect her from harm.

 

Her morning chores completed and several hours, still, until the evening meal would need tending, Sigyn set forth from the little cabin on the edge of the woods and stepped light-footed through the trees. There was a place, a short walk into the forest, a small meadow with a flat stone slab fallen over at its center. It was here that Sigyn went to offer her praise to her patron god. She knelt before the stone, her long, golden hair catching the sun’s rays and glimmering in waves down her back. Taking the wooden figure from her pocket, she placed it carefully before her on the flat stone. 

 

“Hail, Loki son of Laufey, Liesmith and god of trickery, listen to my prayer…” her melodious voice rose up from the meadow and carried on the wind, the earnest reverence imbued in her tone gave the words the power of prayer. The words flew, as if on falcon’s wings, over the trees and through the clouds, threading the mighty branches of Yggdrasil and fluttering into the land of the Aesir until they floated through the open door of Loki’s abode.

 

Loki’s house stood on the rocky prominence of a seaside cliff. His house had four doors facing in every direction so that he might see anyone sneaking up on him. He was sprawled on his couch, a grape snapping between his bright, dangerous teeth, when the fluttering whisper of a prayer flew through his doorway. The words felt like a soft breeze kissing his face and Loki’s brows rose in surprise. He could not remember the last time a mortal of Midgard had raised their voice in prayer to him. He was considered ill-luck among mortals, and he couldn’t blame them. He had often medled in their lives causing them untold grief. Still, it was nice to feel the worship that was his due as a god. A smile curved his lips and he hearkened to the words of the prayer. It was a young woman. Sigyn was her name. Her voice flowed like music and she asked only for his protection.

 

Loki stood, walking toward the door that faced Midgard and looking out with his bright eyes. He could see the woman kneeling on the forest floor and he caught his breath. She was beautiful. Her golden hair shone like the stars themselves were woven into its strands. Her perfect little face was lowered in supplication. Even her toes were adorable, wiggling in the dewey grass where she knelt. In an instant Loki decided. He transformed himself into a sharp-eyed hawk and flew out over the many miles, sweeping downward and landing on a branch on the edge of the meadow. He watched in his bird form as the woman finished her prayer and raised her face. The sunlight caught her high cheekbones and sparkling eyes and Loki bristled his feathers, in awe of this lovely mortal. 

 

He decided to take her as a lover at once. Even as the decision solidified in his mind, he knew it was fated that he would bring this innocent misery and tragedy. He didn’t care, he must have her. He flew down from the branch and landed before her, at the last minute transforming into his true self and standing before her as the magnificent god of mischief. 

 

Sigyn gasped at his sudden appearance and lowered her gaze in flustered respect. She still kneeled in the grass and Loki found that he rather loved this view of his mortal supplicant before him.

 

He stepped around the flat rock and leaned down to grasp her chin in his large, powerful hand, “Rise, little one. I have heard your prayer.”

 

Sigyn watched him with eyes round as saucers and she rose on unsteady legs. She felt a mixture of joy, fear, anxiety, and wonder. All these emotions showed on her face which was entirely open to him. She was caught in his green-eyed gaze and she found she could not move a muscle. With a small, wavering voice she attempted to speak, “My lord, I am honored. I’m not worthy, I--”

 

Loki smirked and waved her words away. He was already eyeing her body with a predatory hunger. She was all delicious curves and soft skin beneath the fabric of her gown and he couldn’t wait to grasp her with bruising fingers. 

 

“Hush, child. Your melodious words reached me in my seaside home and I was enchanted by your worshipful innocence. When I beheld you kneeling here in this meadow I knew that I had to have you,” he stepped forward and captured her in the circle of his arms, allowing his hands to wander freely over her backside. His touch elicited a sharp gasp from Sigyn and he smiled wickedly, determined to thoroughly shock her.

Sigyn caught her breath and attempted to turn away from his attentions, “M-my lord, this is not suitable. I am a m-maiden, you shouldn’t--”

 

Loki hushed her with a soft kiss to her lips and Sigyn found herself melting against him against her judgement.

 

“You are a mortal,” Loki said, explaining as if he were talking to a child, “and I am your god. The rules of your Midgardian society do not apply. It would be an insult to the Aesir to refuse my embrace when I can feel that you want it as well as I do. You have long revered me, I can feel it. Now is your chance to truly commune with your patron god.”

 

His words rang true to her. She *did* want him; had wanted him since she was a young girl and first began feeling attracted to the opposite sex. What held her back was not her own emotion but her worry over what her sister and brother-in-law would say. They would scold her for giving away her maidenhead before marriage. They would be horrified if they knew it was Loki to whom it was given.

 

She tried again, gasping between soft kisses, “But, my lord, my family would be shamed if I were found to be...impure before being wed.”

 

Loki laughed into her lips and snaked his fingers under the hem of her gown. She groaned in shocking abandon and stumbled until her back came up against a tree. She could feel Loki’s entire form pressing into her. He was *so* tall. He loomed above her, leaning down to draw his cool lips against the bud of her ear. 

 

“Loving your god is not an impurity, Sigyn,” at the sound of her name on his lips she keened in satisfaction and squirmed against him. “You are paying homage to Loki, not forsaking your maidenhood. No mortal who reveres the Aesir could find fault in you.”

 

With that he descended upon her, trailing cool, wet kisses along her neck and collar bones. Sigyn writhed and panted, overwhelmed by the assault of new sensations. She’d never been touched like this by a man, let alone a god. His hands curved over her supple thighs and traced inside toward her most secret place. She gasped as his warm palm cupped her down there and blushed to find herself grinding against him. She had learned the ways of love between men and women like any other young person but she’d never imagined it could feel this good. Burning with curiosity she couldn’t help the words from spilling from her lips.

 

“How can you...how do you make me feel this way? You feel so good!” she panted into the god’s ear.

 

Loki smirked down at her and plunged one long digit inside her. Sigyn let out a cry of pleasure before he responded, “I am Loki Laufeyson. Giant’s son and divine god. Stronger and more passionate than any mortal man. The mere whisper of my breath over your skin could bring you release if I willed it. But I have traveled too far for this to be over so fast.”

 

He took her against the tree. His enormous length breaking through the barrier of her maidenhead and pounding into her with a bruising rhythm. She would feel the ache of his penetration for days afterward, but while they clung to one another she felt nothing but pleasure--Loki’s expert hands and the delirium of his magic erased her virgin’s discomfort and brought her only joyous release. She lost track of time. It might have been days or minutes that they spend entwined together. After the first time he laid her down in the tall grass and wildflowers and made slow love to her again, worshipping her body as she had worshipped him all her life. 

 

By the end she was crying his name and declaring her love for him. Loki soaked in her adoration, her praise making him even more powerful. He released inside her with a mighty cry and then collapsed beside her in the grass, stroking her flushed skin and pressing his lips into her golden hair. She smiled dreamily and nuzzled into his side. 

 

After a while Sigyn sat up and met his eyes in a steady gaze, “And...we are married now?”

 

Loki smiled warmly at her inexperience but shook his head, “No, little mortal. It is not your place to aspire to wed a god. But you have pleased me well and I will protect you from harm when I can.”

 

Loki was stunned when he felt a stab of guilt at the flash of hurt that flooded her innocent eyes. Still, there was little to do. The gods did not intermarry with mortals. It wasn’t done. 

 

Sigyn cleared her throat and reached for her discarded gown avoiding his eyes, “I should return home to assist with dinner.”

 

Loki nodded and stood up, his naked body resplendent against the wooded landscape.

 

“Farewell, my Sigyn. You have made a great offering to me today and I won’t soon forget it,” with that he transformed back into his hawk-shape and flew off, rising into the air until he was just a blackish dot against the fading twilight sky. 

 

Sigyn sniffed against the tears that threatened to spill and straightened her gown and apron. She made to leave the meadow before doubling back, snatching the figurine from its place on the flat rock and running all the way home.

  
  
  
  



End file.
